


Hold Me When I'm Here

by Crowgirl



Series: Scars Remind Us [48]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel Draws A Line, Dean Gets the Idea, M/M, Well-Deserved Bitchslap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-17
Updated: 2012-07-17
Packaged: 2017-11-10 04:50:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/462374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowgirl/pseuds/Crowgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ongoing discussion, and ramifications thereof, between Dean and Castiel about the after-effects of Hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold Me When I'm Here

XLVIII.

Dean pauses in the door to Bobby’s library late that night. Sam and Bobby are sleeping the sleep of the exhausted upstairs and the house is quiet. Castiel and he are the only two still awake and Dean’s been pretending to watch a movie in the living room. It was only when he realises that the film he’d originally sat down to watch had been over for an hour and he’d bitten his thumbnail to blood that he gives up. 

Cas is sitting in a pool of dim golden light at Bobby’s desk. The desk itself and the floor for several feet around is strewn with books, closed and open, sheets of paper, pens and pencils. Cas is gnawing at the end of a pencil, his other hand thrust into his hair and he looks so much like a student desperately cramming for a final exam that Dean almost wants to laugh.

‘Give up, Cas. Get some sleep. I’ll be fine.’

Castiel blinks up at him, then returns his eyes to the book. ‘I will not leave you alone in this.’

Dean blows out a long breath. ‘I’ll be _fine_ \--’

‘I have barely been able to keep the dreams from getting worse for the past week.’ They might as well be talking about the weather for all the evident emotion in Castiel’s voice, but Dean can hear a faint thread of something below the calm. He’s not sure what it is, but he can see Castiel’s fingers getting tighter on the pencil. ‘I will _not_ leave you to their mercy again.’

‘It’s not like it’s going to take the rest of my _life,_ Cas -- maybe a few hours? It’ll be--’ Dean nearly leaps back when Castiel is abruptly in front of him, glaring at him. This close, it’s impossible to ignore how exhausted the angel looks: his pale skin seems to have gotten thinner and his veins look drawn on with ink.

‘I know you are very poor at listening to people other than yourself, Dean, but this would be a good occasion for you to _learn.’_ Castiel reaches up and catches Dean’s chin before he can step back and then Dean’s caught, held not so much by the fingers on his skin as by the expression in Cas’ eyes and the tone in his voice. ‘I will _not_ leave you alone in this. I will not allow devils to torture you for their amusement because you feel you are disposable. This is a thing which will not happen.’

Dean swallows hard and has to try a couple of times before his voice will work right. ‘Cas...you really...you’ve done enough.’ He clears his throat, but before he can say anything else, Castiel is off again.

‘Enough? Yes, Dean, I have certainly done enough -- opening doors in your mind you would rather remained closed. Trailing back to you so beaten I could barely stand. Doing such a poor job binding _lesser demons_ that they can reach out to you through the traps _I_ made--’

‘C'mon, Cas--’

‘Not having--’

_‘Cas--’_

‘--the wit to realise you were--’

‘Cas!’

Castiel is flushing, a high smear of color on his cheekbones, but he’s not listening to Dean, busy rattling off some internal list he has been too long making up. ‘--barely conscious and allowing myself--’

‘Jesus, _Cas!’_ Dean claps a hand over Castiel’s mouth. ‘None of that is your _fault.’_

Castiel pulls Dean’s hand away. ‘Had I been more attentive--’

_‘How_ would you be more attentive, exactly? Stand in the middle of the room and watch me all the time? ‘Cause that’d get a lot done. You make mistakes. Just like the rest of us. It happens. Have a drink and get the hell over it.’ Dean only realises as he says the last words that Castiel has not let go of his hand and the angel is, in fact, looking down at it, his thumb tracing the thin line of the scar just below Dean’s wrist.

‘I will not leave you alone.’ Castiel’s voice is quiet, implacable, and Dean doesn’t particularly feel like arguing with Castiel’s fingers sending little electric twists up his arm and into his chest. 

And...he doesn’t _want_ Cas to let go. He can hear his heart beating in his ears but he doesn't _want_ Castiel to let go.

It hits him like a brick and he can’t _believe_ he’s been this stupid for this long, that Cas hasn’t done the smart thing and left.

For a minute, he nearly panics -- nearly opens his mouth and lets the panic _out_ which would be even worse, but he manages to swallow it back, and try to retain something like his normal attitude.

Realising he’s in love is no reason to lose his cool.

He takes a deep breath. ‘All right.’ He nods briskly and slides his fingers between Castiel's with a quick turn of his wrist. Castiel looks up at him in surprise and Dean nods again. ‘Okay. So what do we do?’

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "When I'm Gone," 3 Doors Down, _Away from the Sun._


End file.
